Nothing Could Measure
by backinthebox
Summary: They could get used to this, waking up to each other in the morning. (Third installation of the Welcome to The Lodge at Fallen Leaves 'verse.) The rating's more due to context and language.


Follows (almost) immediately after All the Things That's Been and Done (chapter 2 of These Hands are Meant to Hold).

* * *

Aubrey jerked awake to a question.

She paused, considered her surroundings, and once she had reconciled her environment and remembered why she was there, eased her head back onto her pillow, and tried to go back to sleep.

Except her phone insisted on being heard.

Aubrey groaned, and reached out for where she recalled last placing her phone, willing it to stop before she could touch it.

Luckily — or not — a slim hand reached out from behind her, grabbed the offending device, and answered it. "Ms. Posen's phone. No, I'm sorry, she can't take a call right now. May I take a message? Oh, is that so? We're sorry to hear that. We hope they didn't cause any problems on your end. Of course. Yes. Happy to oblige. I will communicate that to Ms. Posen. Have a good day to you too."

Aubrey giggled into her pillow. "So I'm the cliché that sleeps with the woman who answers my phone."

"To be fair," Stacie replied, placing the phone back on her bedside table and pressing closer to Aubrey, "We were sleeping together long before I was answering your phone."

"So now it's nepotism." Aubrey grinned, reaching behind her to grab the back of Stacie's neck and pulling her closer, turning her head to meet Stacie's lips in a kiss.

"As long as it's not sexual harassment." Stacie replied, pulling back slightly to allow Aubrey to turn and lay flat on her back. She leaned down, brushing their lips together, before she broke the kiss to smile at the blonde. "Hi."

"Hi." Aubrey returned, smiling back.

"So that wasn't a dream."

"Which part?"

"You in my bed."

"Guess not."

"Could get used to this." Stacie noted, resting on her side so she could prop her head up with one arm, while the other held Aubrey across her hip. "Very used to this."

Aubrey ran her hand over the arm Stacie held across her body. "You have a minimum of two years to get used to this."

"And the maximum?"

Aubrey lifted her eyes from Stacie's collar to meet her gaze, and they held the heated gaze for a long moment before they covered the gap between them to communicate what they did not yet have the words for, expressing the sentiment instead with lips and mouths and tongue, pressing closer together while keeping the level of their passion at a low simmer. Technically, they _were_ still banned from having sex in the house.

(Although, seriously, it was _one_ time.)

(Actually multiple times in one stretch of time, but Stacie was sure the other people in the house weren't big with the details and calculations.)

Aubrey abruptly broke the kiss, and threw a glance over her shoulder over at Chloe's bed, and sighed in relief when she saw it was empty.

"She's been singing some 80's rock song about pies the whole morning." Stacie told her. "You have something to do with that?"

"I brought her pies." Aubrey answered.

Stacie arched an eyebrow.

"It's a long story," Aubrey added, turning to angle her body against Stacie's, and wrapped one arm around her waist, her hand drifting up Stacie's back. "I've missed you."

"When the hell did we become _that_ couple?" Stacie asked curiously, relaxing her arm so she could rest her head next to Aubrey's. "I've missed you too. And… not that I'm complaining, because, you know, Aubrey Posen on my bed, but you're about a couple of hours early from when you said you'd be here."

Aubrey groaned. "Idiots."

Stacie paused, her gaze flickering over to Aubrey's phone. "That's what that phone call was about? One of your clients fired two of his management trainees on your recommendation."

"I recommended disciplinary action, and subject to review after a remedial period." Aubrey corrected. "But if they got fired, after damage to property, their behavior the whole week, and not to mention their harassment of several of my female employees; they're lucky all they got was fired."

"So you thought, 'I'll drive a couple hundred miles to Georgia in the middle of the night to get away from these idiots'?" Stacie asked, frowning. "Do I even start with how unsafe that is?"

Aubrey paused, knowing there was little she could say to defend such foolhardy actions, so she went with her strengths: "I love you?"

Stacie rolled her eyes. "You're lucky I love you too, because you're part-idiot."

"Hey now, I got into Harvard." Aubrey protested. " _And_ UCLA."

"I got into MIT."

Aubrey laughed suddenly, causing Stacie to frown.

"What? If we're debating academic success—"

"I got into MIT too."

Stacie stared at her. "Shut the front door."

"It was a whim, Sloan's a top-ranked business school, I thought, why not try?"

"And you got in?"

"Please, with the surprise." Aubrey drawled. "Shocked me too, to be honest."

Stacie frowned. "So why Harvard?"

"Because if we both end up in MIT for graduate school we'd have access each other's schools and probably be defiling its halls all the time, which, while fun, probably the best way to get expelled."

Stacie paused to consider, and sighed. "We _would_ be skirting controversy if we had sex in the halls."

"Plus the waste of tuition, which is fine for you, Miss Partial Scholarship, and do we really want to deprive Barden of any future chance of its students ever being accepted into MIT just because we can't keep our hands off each other?"

"So now you're thinking of future generations?"

"I'm still thinking of having sex with you in the hallways of MIT, which is making me think of sex with you in general, but…"

Stacie bit her lower lip, her eyes darting to the door of the room she shared with Chloe. She turned back to Aubrey, and gave her a quick kiss. "We could risk it."

"Have you ever noticed how, for a nationally-awarded singing group, the Bellas have the worst sense of timing?" Aubrey asked, sharing a series of kisses before she reached up to cup Stacie's jaw to hold her close, trading in their playful kisses as she parted her lips in an invitation for closer and deeper, and Stacie responded eagerly, moving to lay on top of Aubrey and thrilled when she felt Aubrey's hands on her back drift to slip under the tank she had worn to bed, pulling her even closer.

Stacie's left hand slowly drifted up Aubrey's side, brushing closer to—

"Hey, it's getting late you should— goddamnit!" The door opened and closed in quick succession, startling them both, and they could hear Beca holler just outside the door. "Did you nerdfaces know Aubrey was in there?"

Aubrey searched the ceiling for answers, hoping to calm the heat on her face and the overall flush in her body, ignoring Stacie's amused giggling against her neck. "I told you."

Stacie moved up, and gleefully pecked Aubrey's lips. "You're so red."

"I'm going to be so happy when we don't have to worry about Bellas interrupting us."

"Shut up, you know you miss them."

"I miss _you_. And Chloe." Aubrey corrected.

"Really? Ten of us, and we only have a twenty percent success rate with Aubrey Posen?" Stacie teased.

She paused and considered. "Maybe Cynthia Rose, when she's not ogling you or giving me high-fives. Probably Lilly, when she's not being a creeper. Ashley and Jessica, since they're a package deal, when they're not cowering away from me in fear."

"Mm. Yeah. You're scary when you go dragonlady on us." Stacie agreed. She winked at the blonde. "Hot, though."

Aubrey gave her a wry look. "But I feel like Flo's constantly trolling everybody with her comments, and Emily thinks I'm this fun, awesome person."

"You _are_ a fun, awesome person." Stacie countered. "She and I have different ideas of how 'fun' you are, though…"

"Fat Amy still feels like she a thousand degrees of personality, and honestly, that's fine, that's fun for like a day, maybe two, but not all the time."

"She's not always like that, you know." Stacie pointed out.

"I guess." Aubrey conceded, then fell silent.

Stacie arched an eyebrow. "Really? No opinion on Beca?"

"So many opinions on Beca." Aubrey muttered.

"She told me about your talk back at The Lodge." Stacie told her.

Aubrey sighed, and looked at Stacie.

"She looks up to you, you know." Stacie informed.

"I find that hard to believe."

Stacie pressed her hand on Aubrey's sternum to keep her still. "Have you seriously not noticed that she's found a way to talk to you every time you came to see me here?"

"Yeah, but that's because she knew Chloe and I weren't really on speaking terms, which—"

"Aubrey, Beca's not someone who asks anyone for help. Ever. And she's asked you for advice time and again." Stacie reminded. "I know you think some of your problems with Chloe have to do with Beca, and you want to just cover her mouth and keep her from even talking, often and not in the fun way, but…"

"Really? BDSM?" Aubrey asked warily, interrupting.

"Love is great, love is fine, out the box, out of line; the affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more." Stacie sang softly, her wicked grin belying the gentleness of her voice. She winked. "You've never thought of tying me up?"

Aubrey blinked, her brain a momentary blank, before she shook her head to get it started again. "We're gonna have to put a pin on that."

"I love that I can get you to let your freak flag fly." Stacie said huskily, licking Aubrey's lips.

Aubrey cleared her throat, mouth suddenly dry. "Um…"

"We were talking about Beca." Stacie reminded.

"Totally the last thing on my mind right now."

Stacie chuckled, tracing Aubrey's jaw with her lips. "Want to try what we were trying to do earlier again?"

"What?" Why was logic so difficult?

"Want to try morning sex again?"

"The door's still unlocked."

"They're college-educated young women. They should know better." Stacie husked, licking a path up the side of Aubrey's neck, and was rewarded with a whimper. Then she played dirty, whispering into Aubrey's ear, "I love the feeling you bring to me. Oh, you turn me on, it's exactly what I've been yearning for—"

Aubrey's thin thread of control snapped, and she flipped them over so that Stacie was on her back, and kissed her hungrily. Her hands slipped under Stacie's tank top, and drifted up to cup her breasts. Stacie hooked her leg over Aubrey's hip, pulling her closer, shamelessly grinding against the blonde.

"So impatient." Aubrey teased, taking a playful bite on Stacie's bottom lip.

"So eager to come." Stacie corrected.

Aubrey quirked an eyebrow, but dutifully obliged, starting to drift her lips lower, trailing kisses down Stacie's body.

Stacie's hand moved to grip her pillow, trying to grab purchase, when her hand came in contact with something under her pillow. Suddenly distracted, she grabbed the object, and pulled out a thin blue box. "What's–"

"I thought that was obv—" Aubrey began, but stopped suddenly when she looked up and saw what Stacie held in her hands. She sat up, sitting on her haunches, still straddling Stacie. "Before you open that…"

Stacie looked up at her, still momentarily in shock that her imaginary scenario of falling asleep beside Aubrey with a Tiffany box under her pillow had not been a sleep-induced hallucination. The Aubrey part was a given, because she had been expected to show for Stacie and Chloe's graduation ceremony, but jewelry? She slowly sat up, so she could be at eye level with Aubrey.

Aubrey licked her lips, unsure of how to proceed. She took a deep breath, and started talking. "I lost touch with Chloe, when I graduated. I lost touch with all of you, let's be honest. And that's… that's on me, that was my fault. And for a long time, I made the concerted effort to be… I don't know, someone else? Someone successful, who can be as ambitious as I could be and be unapologetic about it. Be someone better, although 'better' is debatable at this point. But you showed up, out of nowhere, and reminded me who I was, who I could be, and I just wanted to give you something, to show you how much I appreciate it."

"That was two years ago."

"I'm getting there." Aubrey laughed softly, and her gaze landed on the box. "I'm awful, at giving gifts. My mom used to tell me it's the thought that counts, and then my dad just gave me an envelope with cash in it, and then Chloe… Chloe puts together these well-thought, deliberately-chosen, elaborate presents, and it always feels like I'm buying people's affection."

Stacie's gaze shadowed, understanding for the first time why Aubrey was so hesitant about gifts, why she was obsessed about gift registries and wishlists, why she watched Stacie like a hawk whenever they were out shopping, while they browsed bookstores or record shops. "Aubrey."

Aubrey reached forward, and tapped the blue box with the tip of her finger. "But I saw this, and I thought of you. But then the saleslady told me my girlfriend would love it, and that was back when we weren't… really together, not the way we are now, and I chickened out. So I got you those Coachella backstage passes instead."

"That was a good time." Stacie offered feebly. Because now she was worried that she was going to open the box to find an elaborate diamond-studded piece of jewelry, and she loved Aubrey, she did, but…

Aubrey smiled wryly, knowing what Stacie was trying to do. "Anyway. I was in New York for a meeting, and I thought… anyway." She tapped the box one last time, before she pulled her hand back, and let Stacie decide whether or not to open it.

Stacie looked up at her. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes…?"

"I don't need a Tiffany…" Stacie paused, not knowing what kind of jewelry she held.

"Necklace."

"I don't need a Tiffany necklace, no matter the reasons why, despite whatever I might have said while I was delirious from sleep."

Aubrey smiled. "I know. Just like I know I didn't need to buy Chloe a charm bracelet three years ago. I think I'm finally figuring this 'thought that counts' business."

Stacie looked at her for a long moment, then lifted the lid of the box, but Aubrey suddenly stalled her hand. She looked up at Aubrey questioningly.

"Please remember I hadn't intended to buy it as a graduation present, and it might clash with your graduation gown."

Stacie gave her a wry glare, and proceeded to extract the necklace from its pouch. She lifted the thin, rose-gold necklace in her hand, gazing at the pendant that hung on the chain. She glanced at Aubrey.

"It's an S, I swear." Aubrey said quickly. She, too, had looked doubtfully at the abstract letter S script that looked suspiciously like an A when she'd seen it in the store. "I'm possessive, but branding your significant other's just tacky."

"I'm suddenly deathly afraid of losing this necklace." Stacie admitted. "You couldn't wait until we got to Boston?"

"Okay, let me just—" Amused, Aubrey reached over to get the box and necklace, but Stacie moved both away from her.

"Put it on?" Stacie requested, handing the necklace over and turning, holding her hair up to let Aubrey place the necklace around her neck. "This clashes with the gown, too."

"Like I said." Aubrey reminded, securing the clasp, and avoiding the temptation of letting her touch linger on the back of Stacie's neck, or her shoulder.

Once done, Stacie glanced down. It _was_ pretty, even if she had already decided to put it away for safekeeping at least until she and Aubrey were settled in Boston. She glanced over her shoulder at Aubrey, and smiled mischievously. "It can be an A."

In the kitchen, nine young women looked up at the telltale sounds coming from the floor above them.

Chloe, previously singing about how grown men cry over pecan pie, rolled her eyes. Clearly, Aubrey and Stacie had decided they would ignore the ban on their activities while they were under the Bellas' roof. She turned to the rest of the Bellas. "Come on. I'll buy breakfast."

Aubrey can owe her later.

* * *

Lyrics borrowed from Rihanna's S&M.


End file.
